The Animagus and the Owl
by Kallanit
Summary: At the end of Prisoner of Azkaban, it was discovered that Wormtail had been hiding in the Burrow for over a decade, and Sirius gifts Ron with an owl. How do the Weasley parents react? One-shot. Complete.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine, don't own it—I wish! Unfortunately, Harry Potter belongs to JKR and not to me; I'm just playing in her sandbox.

**A/N:** No Epilogue, Cursed Child or Fantastic Beasts. Complete.

.o.O.o.

Ron Weasley was sitting in a carriage on the Hogwarts Express with his best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, on their way home from their third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry was avidly reading and rereading the letter that had just come from his Godfather, Sirius Black, while Ron was happily stroking the miniature owl that was a present to himself from Sirius.

Hermione smiled to herself as she watched Ron with his new owl. Ron was sixth out of seven siblings—and the youngest brother—so she knew he only very rarely got presents that weren't hand-me-downs. Even his rat, or what they thought was his rat—here, she shuddered—had first been his brother, Percy's, pet before Ron inherited it. "Have you thought about what you're going to call him, Ron?" she asked softly, not wanting to disturb Harry.

"I don't know. I'll think of a really good name, though," he promised the owl. "And it won't be something silly like _Crookshanks_," he said, referring to Hermione's pet cat. "Sorry," he apologised with a quick glance to see if he'd upset her. Ron had been at loggerheads with Hermione for the better part of the past year and he didn't want another argument right now.

"That's all right. It's not like I'm the one who choose his name," Hermione shrugged. "The witch in the pet shop said Crookshanks had been there for ages because no one wanted him. Because he'd been there for so long, they'd already named him and it was too late to change his name."

"How did you choose Hedwig's name, Harry?" the red-headed boy turned to address their companion.

"What?" Harry shook himself out of the reverie he had sunk into. "Oh, I found the name in _A History of Magic_ and I liked it."

"You read your textbooks before we started school?" Hermione asked curiously, and Harry flushed with embarrassment. Realising her friend had thought she was being disparaging about his work ethic, Hermione rushed to explain what she meant. "I wouldn't have thought your relatives would be too happy about that."

Giving her a quick grin, Harry shrugged. "They pretty much ignored me after I came back from Diagon Alley with my school things. I didn't have much else to do that summer, so I read our textbooks. I didn't want to make a fool of myself by not knowing anything at all about the Wizarding World when I arrived at school. It didn't help me much, though. I think everything I read flew out my head as soon as I arrived at school. It was too hard to concentrate with everyone staring at me and whispering behind my back."

Hermione smiled sympathetically in response. The way Harry was treated by everyone at school because he was the Boy-Who-Lived did tend to get out of control at times, and must have been overwhelming at the start of their first year. Hermione hadn't been close to the boys then but she knew Harry well enough to know much he hated the attention. Sensing that Harry didn't want to talk about his relatives, especially in light of his disappointment that he wouldn't be able to live with Sirius as he'd hoped, Hermione turned her attention back to Ron.

"Mum was really disappointed to hear I'd bought a pet that already had a name because she wanted to name him herself. The fact that I might want to name my own pet didn't seem to occur to her. You'd better name your owl before we get to London if you don't want Ginny or someone else to name him first," she warned, knowing Ron would be upset if that happened. Part of the excitement of having your own pet was getting to name him—it helped build a special bond between owner and pet.

"I… I don't know what to call him," said Ron helplessly.

"Well, we'll help you, mate," said Harry enouragingly. "We can make suggestions. It might help if we all brainstorm together."

Ron cheered up at that, and he and Harry quickly started throwing out names for consideration. Eventually, Harry noticed that their female best friend hadn't been contributing any ideas. "What do you think, Hermione?" he asked.

"Well," she hesitated.

"Go on, Hermione," Harry said encouragingly, understanding from the way she was biting her lip that she'd thought of a name but was reluctant to say anything after having been on the outs with Ron for so long. She was probably scared about how he'd react if he didn't like her idea, Harry realised.

Instead, Hermione turned to Ron. "Are you sure you won't mind me making a suggestion?" she asked warily.

Ron shook his head. "If it'll mean my owl doesn't get called something like Fluffy, definitely!" he said, referring to Hagrid's vicious pet Cerberus. "I dread to think what the twins would suggest," he added and Hermione grimaced in acknowledgement. Fred and George, pranksters extraordinaire, would undoubtedly choose something ridiculous just to annoy their little brother.

"Nah, mate. Hagrid would be more likely to call him Feathers," Harry snorted.

Hermione joined in their laughter. "Or Titchy, because he's so small," she added, and Ron nodded in agreement. "I was going to suggest Chudley," she finally said.

Ron's face lit up. His favourite professional Quidditch team was the Chudley Cannons. Given how much Hermione disliked Quidditch, he was surprised she'd think of that—and even more surprised he hadn't thought of it himself. "That's perfect! Thanks, Hermione," he exclaimed. "Your name is Chudley, is that all right?" he asked, looking down at the tiny Scops owl in his hand, and the little owl hooted in agreement.

Harry smiled at his friend for her considerate idea. Hermione's dislike of Quidditch was well-known, and he hadn't realised she even knew the names of any Quidditch teams—except that she was a good friend and would know the name of the Cannons just because it was Ron's favourite team, he admitted.

As Ron continued to stroke Chudley, it occurred to Harry that his friend didn't have money of his own to pay for a pet. "Ron, what will you say to your Mum about Chudley? Won't she wonder where he came from?"

Seeing Ron's crestfallen expression, Hermione spoke up. "Surely Professor Dumbledore will have told Mr and Mrs Weasley about Wormtail?" she said, looking from one friend to the other. "I mean, I know no one bothered to tell my parents anything when I was petrified last year but they're Muggles—the Wizarding World doesn't care about them. Your parents are Purebloods though, and this concerns them."

Harry frowned at the thought that Hermione's parents had been left ignorant when she had been petrified for weeks, but Ron was shaking his head. "Probably not. Dumbledore can't say anything about Wormtail without mentioning Sirius, and Mum would go nuts if she heard about everything that happened this year," he said.

"Mate, you had a Death Eater hiding in your home for nearly thirteen years!" Harry exclaimed. "They need to know." Wormtail was the nickname for Peter Pettigrew, a Death Eater who had been hiding in his Animagus form of a rat ever since the end of the Wizarding War in 1981. Percy, the oldest of Ron's brothers still living at home, had found the injured rat just after the end of the war and had adopted him, naming him Scabbers for the rat's scabbed-over missing toe.

"You should tell your parents, Ron," Hermione nodded in agreement. "They really ought to alter the wards to keep Wormtail out."

"Maybe tell just your Dad if you don't want your Mum to freak out?" Harry suggested. He had witnessed Molly Weasley's temper and understood why Ron might hesitate to tell her anything that would make her go ballistic. For a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a sabre-toothed tiger¹ when she was angry.

"I don't like lying but perhaps you could tell your Mum that Chudley was a present from Harry and me? A belated birthday present? You could tell her your present is late because there isn't a pet shop in Hogsmeade, so it had to wait until one of us could go to Diagon Alley," Hermione suggested, pulling out parchment and a quill. "Here, I'll write a letter and you could send Chudley off to deliver it to you this evening. That way, it'll look like I went to buy him after we got off the train and sent him to you."

"Why you and not me?" Harry asked in amusement.

"Would your relatives really be willing to take you to Diagon Alley?" Hermione replied, arching an eyebrow inquiringly.

"No, fair point," Harry huffed, and Hermione grinned at him.

It didn't take long for Hermione to finish her letter and just before the train arrived at Kings Cross in London, Ron sent Chudley off with instructions to deliver it that evening.

When they arrived back at the Burrow, Molly sent all the children to unpack their trunks. Ron's normal habit was to tip everything out of his trunk and shove it higgledy-piggledy into drawers, but for once he took his time as he mentally debated what, if anything, he should say to his father. Eventually he had to admit that his friends were right: Arthur needed to know about Wormtail. He trailed despondently down the stairs and paused at the foot to assess the situation. Not having procrastinated over their unpacking, his siblings had already finished and were downstairs with their parents. Percy was sitting at the kitchen table quietly talking to their mother as she bustled about preparing supper, Fred and George were playing a game and their baby sister, Ginny, was sitting watching them and making comments.

"Where's Dad?" Ron asked, not seeing his father.

"Out in his shed," Ginny answered without looking up.

Arthur was fascinated with Muggles and liked to potter about examining Muggle items. Molly, fed up with the clutter, had banished his obsession to his shed in the garden. Seeing that no one was paying him any attention, Ron realised that this would be the perfect opportunity to speak to his father and slipped out unnoticed. "Hey, Dad," Ron said as he stood in the doorway of his father's shed. "Can I talk to you?"

Looking at his son, Arthur was surprised by the grave look on Ron's face. "What's wrong, son?" he asked.

Ron sat down in the seat Arthur indicated and took a deep breath. "Dad, how much do you know about what happened at Hogwarts this year?"

"Well, I know there were Dementors around the school in case Sirius Black showed up, but that doesn't seem to have been particularly effective since I gather Black got into the school a couple of times."

"Yeah, about that… he tried to get into Gryffindor Tower on Halloween but didn't manage to get past the portrait of the Fat Lady. But then, later that year he did actually manage to get in. I woke up to find him standing over my bed with a knife in his hand," Ron admitted and, even though he had already been told this by Percy, Arthur still paled dramatically when he thought about Sirius Black being so close to his son.

Gesturing to Ron to sit down, Arthur sat next to his youngest son, eyeing him carefully. It seemed that Ron had been in quite a lot of danger since starting Hogwarts and despite his trust in the Headmaster and the Gryffindor Head of House, Arthur wasn't best pleased about what had been happening at the school over the past few years. He shuddered at the memory of the previous year, when his only daughter had been possessed by a Dark object and no one had seemed to notice. At the time, he had been so grateful Ginny had been rescued that he hadn't inquired further into the goings-on at Britain's only magical school, most of which seemed to focus around Harry Potter and his two best friends, but perhaps now would be a good time to find out some more. "Would you like to tell me about it, son?" he asked gently.

"Well, it kind of began when we were in Diagon Alley the day before we went to school."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise. He didn't remember anything happening that day. There had been no sightings of Sirius Black on Diagon Alley, as far as he was aware. He said nothing though, sitting quietly and listening to Ron talk.

"I went with Harry and Hermione to the pet shop. I wanted to get Scabbers checked out because he wasn't well and Hermione wanted a pet." Arthur nodded in remembrance, and Ron continued on. "When we were in the shop, I was suddenly attacked by this cat… well, Harry said it was either a very large cat or quite a small tiger. He was enormous!" Ron smiled wanly and Arthur's eyebrows rose even further at the thought that The Magical Menagerie, which was a reputable store, would have a dangerous animal.

"Well, it turns out it wasn't after me, it was after Scabbers."

This made sense to Arthur. Cats would naturally chase rats, although magical familiars usually knew better than that.

"Hagrid thinks the cat is part-Kneazle. They can tell when someone isn't trustworthy, you know?"

Arthur nodded again, giving Ron an encouraging smile.

"Crookshanks—that's Hermione's cat—kept trying to attack Scabbers and then after Sirius Black got into Gryffindor Tower, Scabbers disappeared. I blamed Crookshanks," Ron said, blushing guiltily.

"Oh, Ron," Arthur sighed. "Scabbers was old—he might have just gone off to die in a dark corner somewhere. And even if he didn't, cats do naturally attack rats."

"That's what Hermione said," Ron nodded. "I was angry, though, so I was a bit mean to her," he confessed, rushing on before his father could ask him about his behaviour towards his friend. "We found Scabbers much later. He was hiding in Hagrid's hut…"

With that, Ron launched into the story of the black dog that dragged him through the secret tunnel to the Shrieking Shack because of the rat that was in his pocket, and how both the dog and the rat turned out to be Animagi—the dog being Sirius Black and the rat being one Peter Pettigrew, who Sirius Black had been thrown into Azkaban for murdering, without even having been given a trial.

"Minister Fudge was going to have Sirius Kissed by a Dementor, even though Sirius never had a trial. We tried to explain but the Minister refused to listen to us, so Harry and Hermione rescued Sirius. Hermione had been taking every subject so she was given a time turner so she could get to all her classes. Professor Dumbledore suggested she and Harry use it to rescue Sirius and Buckbeak—that's the hippogriff Lucius Malfoy wanted to have executed. Sirius was locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor, so they flew Buckbeak up and Sirius climbed out the window and escaped on Buckbeak," Ron concluded.

Arthur leaned back in his chair as he reflected on the story he had just heard. He would have thought it all fantastical, or, like Minister Fudge that the children had been Confounded, had it not been clear that Professor Dumbledore believed in the innocence of Sirius Black. "Well, that's quite a story," he said at last.

"I wasn't going to say anything—Mum'll go spare if she finds out—but Harry and Hermione thought you ought to know that a Marked Death Eater has been hiding in our home since 1981 in his Animagus form. Harry's convinced he's gone to find You-Know-Who. Harry says that during his Divination exam, Trelawney gave what Dumbledore thinks is a real prediction, and it said something about his servant breaking free and rejoining his master. Hermione thought we ought to adjust the wards to keep him out?"

Arthur blanched as he considered the implications of Peter Pettigrew's sojourn under their roof. Unlike most in the wizarding world, he believed that Voldemort wasn't dead and would return. There were too many signs for him to turn a blind eye to the possibility. "Yes, Hermione's quite right," he agreed gratefully. "Bill and Charlie will be home later this summer. I'll ask Bill to help—as a curse breaker, he knows more about warding than I do. Thank you, Ron, and the next time you write to Harry and Hermione, thank them as well for their suggestion."

"There's one more thing…" Ron began.

"Yes?" Arthur asked encouragingly, hiding his concern. What else could have happened to Ron and his friends?

"Sirius wrote to Harry. Sent him a letter, which he received on the train home. Sirius wanted me to keep the owl. He said it's his fault I don't have a pet anymore, even though it isn't really his fault, it's Pettigrew's. Mum's going to wonder how I managed to buy an owl and I can't exactly tell her Sirius gave it to me, so Harry and Hermione suggested we say it's a belated birthday present from them. We sent the owl off with a letter from Hermione, telling him to deliver it this evening, so it'll look like she went straight to Diagon Alley from the train to buy him. I know it's lying but I don't know if we should tell the whole family the truth. I don't want to get Harry and Hermione into trouble for helping Sirius escape if someone accidentally blabs."

As Ron looked anxiously at him, waiting for reassurance, Arthur considered the implications of deceiving his wife. Even knowing how much she trusted Dumbledore, he knew she wouldn't take the news well—or quietly!—which would mean that all the children would soon know the full story. Ron was right: they mustn't risk Harry and Hermione being arrested by a Ministry Arthur knew to be corrupt—why else would he insist on staying in a department no one took seriously or even bothered to remember existed most of the time? That, together with his carefully cultivated bumbling, Muggle-loving image, kept him safe from unwittingly becoming embroiled in the corruption that was endemic throughout the Ministry. No, it would be best not to tell Molly the full story. That didn't mean he wasn't going to have words with Dumbledore for not telling him about Pettigrew, however. "I think we should go along with the plan the three of you thought up," Arthur said with a decisive nod. "I don't like deceiving your mother but it might be best in this instance. At least until you're all back at school, anyway."

Ron paled at the thought. "Mum won't send me a Howler, will she?" he asked desperately, making Arthur chuckle.

"No, I won't let her send you a Howler, son. Not about this," Arthur promised, little knowing that by the end of the summer they would all have far more to concern themselves about, so much so that he would continue to avoid telling Molly about this conversation so as not to stress the worried witch even further.

That evening, as they finished supper, the Weasleys heard the unmistakable sound of an owl tapping against the window. Opening the window, Arthur saw a tiny Scops owl fly over to Ron. "Who's that from?" he asked, with a barely perceptible wink for his son.

Molly, who was concerned because she didn't recognise the owl, waited with barely concealed impatience as the boy untied the letter from the owl's leg and read the missive, stifling a laugh at the tongue-in-cheek tone from Hermione—something he hoped his mother wouldn't recognise if she ever happened to read the letter.

"It's from Hermione," he replied.

"I didn't think Granger had an owl."

"I thought she had a cat."

"At least, I think it's a cat."

"It could be a small tiger."

Ron ignored his twin brothers and looked up at Molly. "She and Harry bought him for me as a belated birthday present. Hermione's sorry that he's so small and crazy but he was very eager to be chosen. She says he reminds her of a large snitch and thinks I should name him Chudley after my favourite Quidditch team. That's a brilliant name! You're called Chudley, right?" Ron's smile was soon replaced when Ginny butted in.

"I don't like that name. I think he should be called Pigwidgeon. I learned that word at school this year," said Ginny self-importantly. "It means small or pretty. It's cute like he is."

"That's a good idea, Ginny," Molly smiled at her daughter. "They really shouldn't have given you such an expensive present, Ron, but he's here now. Take Pigwidgeon and put him…"

"No!" Ron interrupted, his face red with anger. "You get everything new, Ginny. You don't get to have my present as well. He's my owl, not yours, and his name is Chudley!" With that, Ron scooped up his new owl and stalked out of the room, ignoring Molly as she shouted at him to come back at once and apologise to his sister. Once back in his bedroom, Ron mentally thanked his friend for thinking about naming his new pet while they were still on the train.

Arthur had to admit that in this instance Ron was justified in becoming upset with his younger sister. "Enough!" he barked, his uncharacteristically stern demeanour surprising even his wife. "Ron's quite right, Molly. You don't feel a girl should be given hand-me-downs from boys so most of Ginny's things are bought new, but Ron very rarely gets anything of his own, other than his annual Weasley jumper. Harry and Hermione didn't buy Chudley for Ron _and_ Ginny, they bought him just for Ron. Chudley is _Ron's_ owl, given to him as a present by _his_ friends and it's for Ron to decide what to name the owl. I agree with Ron: the owl's name is Chudley." Arthur held up a hand as Molly opened her mouth to argue and she huffed indignantly at being silenced, but Arthur ploughed on regardless. "If anyone owes anyone else an apology, it's Ginny who should be apologising to Ron for assuming she has the right to name _his_ familiar."

Molly was looking thoughtful, Arthur was glad to see. After a minute, she nodded. "I suppose we do tend to indulge Ginny because she's a girl. And the owl is Ron's birthday present. Yes, he should be allowed to name it himself," she agreed, ignoring the look of disappointment on Ginny's face. It was interesting to see that the twins and Percy all approved of the decision, Molly noted. Perhaps she and Arthur did need to make more effort to ensure the boys would each receive the occasional new item so they didn't feel deprived. They probably didn't need to be expensive items, she supposed, just as long as they weren't pre-owned.

When Bill came home that summer, Arthur enlisted his help to strengthen the wards, including adding anti-Animagus wards, appeasing his wife by telling her that with Harry coming to visit so often he thought they ought to make sure the wards were up to scratch—something for which Molly would be very grateful after the riot at the Quidditch World Cup—so when Ron wrote to invite Harry and Hermione to join the Weasleys at the World Cup, the youngest Weasley son was both relieved he could assure his friends that the warding was done and elated to be able to tell them that they should send their replies to the invitation with his owl, who was called Chudley.

.o.O.o.

¹ Quote from _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_, by JK Rowling, Chapter 2.

.o.O.o.

**A/N:**

» I always wondered what the Weasleys had been told about events at the end of Ron's third year. Based on Molly's reaction when she saw Sirius in the Hospital Wing after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, she wasn't aware that he was innocent, but surely they would have needed to told so they'd know to adjust their wards in light of Wormtail having spent over a decade hiding in their home? And what was the reaction when Ron suddenly turned up with a pet owl out of nowhere and no reasonable explanation for how he got the owl?

» As for Pigwidgeon, I always thought it was rude and inconsiderate of Ginny not only to take it upon herself to name Ron's owl, but to choose a name she must have known he wouldn't like, especially as Percy got to name both Scabbers and, later, his owl, Hermes, while Ginny named her own Pygmy Puff in HBP. When I was a kid (after much begging) I got a puppy for my birthday one year and my Mum decreed that the puppy would have the name she'd always wanted to use for a dog, completely ignoring the fact that I wanted to name my pet myself. As a result, I always felt the dog was more Mum's pet than she was mine. Admittedly, I was young at the time, and had it happened when I was a few years older I probably wouldn't have been overly bothered by it, but having had that experience, it did make me wonder how Ron would have felt about Ginny naming his owl given that he had so few new things of his own and how important they would therefore have been to him.


End file.
